Wraith
Chapter Forty-Two
Beta: Smithrooks
Requiem For A Dream
Dorme, many years ago…
Two years, eleven months and one week after the Fall of Amity.
"Jaune, we have to go!"
He was shaking, and it burned.
Was it adrenaline perhaps? Or some mixture of terror and nerves maybe? Ultimately, it probably didn't matter all that much in the grand scheme of things, but that didn't do anything to change the way Jaune was feeling.
This was the first time Jaune had felt sunlight in years.
It was an odd thing really - one of those things that you don't really notice until you've lost it. But the feeling of direct sunlight on his face and hands was… nice. He probably looked like a ghost thanks to an utter lack of any tan, but to feel the sun again after so long was just-
"Damn it, Jaune!" Violet's hands clutched his shoulders and shook him roughly. "We can't afford to slow down. We need to go!"
Hungry.
Trees shuddered as something terrible roared nearby.
He couldn't 'see' it of course, what with Grimm being outside of his usual field of perception. But in this particular case he didn't need to see it specifically - just seeing the terrible damage the Gleam Eyes was causing was enough to paint a picture. That, and the disembodied souls of the dead and dying were lingering around the now-broken village like a deathly fog.
It wasn't as though the stray souls of the dead illuminated the titanic Grimm, but rather they illuminated everything else and made the utter absence that was the Gleam Eyes impossible to miss.
"Dad's out there," Jaune whispered. He was the only one left actually, everyone else was… "He's going to die."
Hungry.
Jaune could see that his aura was low, that his body was beginning to break down under the stress of the high intensity fight. Was that really going to be the fate of John Arc? The man who lost so much was going to lose even more by giving his life for a victory he'd never get to enjoy?
Violet pulled at his arm harshly, beckoning Jaune towards the opposite direction as the fight. "He knows," she pleaded with him. "But he's doing this for us, for our family. He's fighting because he loves us."
Jaune grew up on stories from John - stories that never had a happy ending. Tales of brave and noble hunters that would march against impossible enemies and die horrific deaths for their stupidity. John had always scoffed when he told these stories, he always said that martyrs were the greatest wastes of life imaginable - for what point was there in winning if you didn't get to enjoy the victory?
Was John's death going to be like that? Was he going to become one of the very martyrs he so despised?
Jaune felt his aura harden, his muscles tightening and his meagre supply of Dust
glow brightly within his pockets.
No. He wouldn't allow it.
Hungry.
Jaune gripped Violet's shoulder tightly. "No. I won't let it end like this, not after he's lost so much. I have to save him!"
Violet's soul flickered. "Jaune… I won't be able to stop you. But please don't do this. Don't go."
He had to do it. After all, John Arc had lost, Jaune refused to let the man lose his life too. He wouldn't need to beat the Gleam Eyes, if such a thing was even possible. No, all he'd need to do was get his father out and then meet with his sisters before fleeing to Vacuo or something. Get the hell away from Vale before the monster made it there.
No one needed to die, especially anyone he cared about. He could do it - he could play at being the hero once more and save his father. He could protect them all, his father and his sisters.
"Come with me," Jaune pleaded, "I can protect you both. I'll distract the Grimm and you can help Dad get away, then I'll slip away. We can all make it out of this!"
"Jaune…"
Was she crying? No, now was not the time for doubts. He could do this, he could finally win for once. "Come on, Violet," he tugged her towards the battle urgently; John didn't have much time. "I can do it, but I need your help."
Violet's soul flickered, the indecision warring within her was plain for Jaune to see. She was nervous and afraid, and rightly so considering what they were going up against. But Jaune was stronger than he'd ever really been before; large scale Dust use wasn't something he'd used since leaving Beacon, but very precise control was his area of mastery. And should the absolute worst case scenario occur, he could simply release his control of his semblance and use the power of eight hundred souls to boost his physical might to that of a god.
He couldn't lose.
Hungry.
"Okay," Violet whispered, her voice over-shadowed by a beastial roar in the distance. "Let's save Dad."
Excellent.
Violet yelped as Jaune threw her over his shoulder and into a piggyback position - they could just run, but that would be slower. He may have lived as basically a hermit for the past three years, but aura was wonderful at keeping the body in excellent physical condition. Violet may have been physically fit, but she had nothing on anyone who lived - or used to live - the lifestyle of a hunter.
Jaune marveled at the feeling of wind rushing through his hair, at the sensation of the sun burning his skin softly. Things he'd missed for years now, and only now - just as he was about to fight a potentially immortal opponent - was he feeling them again. Fate was rather cruel like that.
Within moments Jaune brought them to the battlefield, his aura-enhanced sprint zooming past any obstacles that may have stood in their path.
It was almost painful for Jaune to gaze upon the ruination caused by the battle. The terrible rends and damage caused by the destructive rage of the Grimm was still beautiful in its own way of course; such was the case with all things when aura sight was used. But this was his home. For nineteen of his twenty years Jaune had lived in Dorme, and now the outer edges of the town were so utterly overfilled with the souls of the dead that it was stifling.
And the Gleam Eyes itself was something else entirely - he couldn't see it but he could see the overwhelming despair and agony that was soaking it. A terrible beast that roared horrifically as it rampaged and battled John Arc.
"Dad!" Violet cried as Jaune let her off his shoulders. "Dad, we need to leave!"
Hungry.
John Arc was on the verge of death, that much was clear to Jaune's blind eyes. Several broken bones, body shutting down, intense aura depletion… it was a miracle that he'd survived this long. But then again, it was never hatred or anger that drove John Arc into what he was or to the power he held. It was love.
"Violet?" John gasped for air as he skidded to a halt near them. "Jaune? What are you doing here?! I told you to run!"
Jaune would show that he was exactly like his father. "Violet, get him out of here! I'll distract the Grimm and then get away!"
Jaune felt the thrum of energy pass through his body as the Gleam Eyes gladly roared its hate at its new opponent. Dust was power, Dust was energy in a crystal form - all it needed was release.
Jaune snapped his fingers.
The titan wailed in agony as its eyes boiled within their sockets.
"Jaune," John staggered forwards and half-collapsed into Violet's arms. "Don't do it. Don't play at being a hero."
Hungry.
"Get out of here!" Jaune snarled, ignoring his father's words. "I'll follow soon!"
All the deaths, all the suffering and the misery this one Grimm had caused… it was too much. But worse than that, it tried to take away his family. His home and life were one thing, but his family? No. That was too far, too great a price to pay to such a terrible monster.
He would make it suffer.
Jaune clicked his fingers again, fire Dust sparking and igniting in less than a second. It was amazing how quickly the tongue could be rendered to a bubbling grease.
The Gleam Eyes thrashed wildly and gagged even as its mouth regrew in a matter of moments.
But it wasn't an SS class society ender for no reason; the second the pain became bearable the Grimm was on the move. In a single massive motion that left Jaune and the ones he protected staggering backwards, the beast stomped.
It felt as though Remnant itself shuddered under the mighty and unbelievable force the beast displayed. Violet and John avoided the worst of it and were only forced to the ground thanks to being further away, but Jaune was not quite so lucky.
It felt as though the ground beneath his feet heaved him from his place and flung him into the air. Jaune gasped as his breath was robbed from him, his aura shielding him from the worst of the damage but none of the pain as he slammed back into the ground.
Hungry.
Less than a moment later the Gleam Eyes was upon him, the ferocious beast snarling viciously in his face, its breath scorching hot with the promise of a swift and fiery death.
Jaune didn't think, he didn't have time to. One moment he was trying to catch his bearings and the next he felt the looming heat of the powerful fire breath of the beast about to consume him. It didn't matter how much aura he personally had - such an attack would kill even the mightiest of hunters.
The fire pressed down on him, and with the greatest will Jaune could muster he reached deeply into the power of his fire Dust and willed it to bend.
It hurt.
It was like trying to blot out a star using only a bucket of water, too much too fast. Jaune screamed in horrific agony as the fire curled around him; the only thing shielding him from an extremely painful death was his unbreakable will.
Like being fired out of a cannon, Jaune felt himself being flung backwards into Dorme proper, his smoking hot body slamming into the nearest house with the force of a freight train.
Every inch of his body hurt. Jaune slid to the ground and felt his body shudder in agony at the horrid burns covering his skin - a testament to his survival, or perhaps a testament to his failure to entirely stop the attack.
"Jaune!"
Jaune's head shot up. His blind gaze focussed on the source of his father's voice. No… why were they still here!? He was meant to be buying them time!
John Arc ran, well, staggered, towards Jaune. "Jaune! No! Please don't be dead, don't you d-!"
"Move!" Far faster than Jaune would have thought physically possible, Violet shoved John forwards, her thin frame displaying a strength Jaune didn't realise she had.
But only a second later, she screamed in agony.
Coated in the lifeblood of his sister, Jaune could see the fingernails of the Gleam Eyes, each as long and sharp as a claymore spearing through Violet.
The Gleam Eyes let out a horrifically human-sounding laugh as the body slid wetly off its fingers.
"NO!" John roared, his soul shattering under the weight of loss.
Jaune could only watch in silent horror as his father rushed forwards, Crocea Mors swinging violently and brutishly towards the titanic monster. This couldn't be happening, it wasn't meant to go this way. He was meant to fight the monster, push it back to they could escape…
It wasn't meant to go this way.
The Gleam Eyes reared its head back and bit.
John Arc roared his defiance and hatred even as the Grimm's teeth sawed him in half and tore him to ribbons in its mouth. One moment he was there, and the next he simply wasn't.
To Jaune it felt as though the entire world just crashed down around him.
He was alone.
He had failed.
Vale, present day…
Jaune was accustomed to suffering, he knew what death and anguish was like. He had walked over a mountain of corpses to get where he was.
And yet, as he held the body of his father, Jaune felt as though the entire world was falling apart around him.
A sob tore through his body.
John Arc…
He had never been a perfect father, but never had Jaune or any of his sisters ever doubted that he loved them with every fibre of his being. John had always tried his absolute hardest to make his children happy, to see his kids smile and laugh in a way that he himself was simply incapable of after the death of his wife.
And now he was dead.
Why? Why was this happening? His sisters, his father… it wasn't fair. Why did everything go so terribly wrong when Jaune left for Beacon? Why did it all hurt so much?
It was a kind of pain completely beyond the physical, something so much deeper in nature that Jaune couldn't even begin to comprehend it in its entirety. It was like something was just… gone. Some deep and important part of his soul was dead.
"Come on, Dad…" Jaune sobbed as he held the bloody corpse close, "Don't do this… I… please don't leave me, I don't think I can survive without you…"
"I'm sorry, Betrayer. I… did not foresee this."
Jaune's eyes widened.
"Nihilus!" He gasped raggedly, "You can bring him back, right? You can bring them all back to life! Like you brought me back!"
That was it, that was the solution to this nightmare. Nihilus could bring his family back, he could solve everything and it would all be okay again. Things could go back to the way they used to be; Jaune could… he could leave Beacon, and they could all be together as a family again. They could play board games and watch TV and-
"I can't do that."
It was like a lance being driven into his heart.
"Why not!?" Jaune shouted furiously, desperation clouding over him.
"The souls of our sisters have already moved on. They are beyond my power. As for father… would you really want him to suffer as you have? To live a half-life of ruination and and suffering? Assuming he doesn't simply kill himself again."
Jaune clutched the rapidly cooling body closer as grief and terrible pain lanced through his heart.
How could he have forgotten? How could he be so selfish to even suggest it? Was his own happiness really worth so much to him that he would even suggest putting his family through the same nightmare he lived in daily? Just what kind of monster was he really, to even think it?
To call what he was feeling 'sadness' would have been an utter lie. There were no words, human or otherwise to describe the total despair that coursed through Jaune's spirit. No comforts could be given, not for something of this nature. It was as though the entire world had just ended before his very eyes.
"Why did this happen…?" Jaune whispered as he hugged his dead father. "Why, Dad? First Mum, then you and my sisters…"
Why did everything have to wither and die around him? Why did everything have to turn to ash? Why did-
His scroll was ringing.
Dorme, many years ago…
Two years, eleven months and one week after the Fall of Amity.
This was his home.
Jaune.
Hatred welled up from the deepest depths of her spirit as Ruby glared at the, frankly, lovely home that monster grew up in. It was empty now of course, what with the entire town's population of civilians having been evacuated mere minutes earlier.
But the stillness, the complete serenity and the peace of this place was infuriating. Jaune didn't deserve something like this. He didn't deserve a home, not when he'd taken away her father and uncle. Her home was nothing like this anymore. Her home was cold, empty and desolate, despite Yang's best efforts.
"Calm down, Rubes. We can't afford to waste time."
Ruby glanced at her older sister, her reassuring presence a balm for the younger huntress. She was right - they couldn't afford to linger too long. They were meant to be out there fighting the Grimm like everyone else, like Weiss and Blake were. But this was a chance they'd never get again.
Ozpin had never allowed them - Ruby and Yang that was - to interrogate John Arc and his daughters personally. He said they'd already been cleared of both involvement and knowledge of Jaune's current whereabouts. He said that they would only cause trouble, that nothing would be gained.
But what did Ozpin know? He was old and without family, he didn't understand the kind of urgency knowing a loved one was in danger could create. He didn't have to live knowing that the monster that killed her father and uncle was free to cause more hurt and harm. They could have forced Jaune out of hiding years ago if they'd only been able to make it here.
But this worked too - they may not be able to intimidate the Arc family into revealing Jaune's location, but they could certainly look for clues regarding his whereabouts.
"You search the other bedrooms, Yang," Ruby ordered. "I'll look around the master bedroom, see if there's anything that could point us in the right direction."
Yang nodded and scurried away.
Ruby held her scythe to the ready as she stepped into the room. This was the home of that monster after all - there was no telling what kind of sick or devious kind of people his parents were, to spawn someone as twisted as Jaune.
It was a simple room, odd really. Even in the face of her righteous anger, Ruby felt a slight… wrongness when she looked about the room.
The half nearest the door and where Ruby herself was was slightly unkempt, but overall still had a very lived-in feel to it.
But it was like there was an invisible line running through the room - right down the middle of the bed.
The other half of the room looked… timeless. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust - the boring kind - and it looked as though someone had just… left everything. Like whoever Jaune's parents were just stopped using that half of the bed and room.
Hesitantly, Ruby stepped deeper into the room, silently forcing her silver eyes to leave the empty and… sad… half of the room.
The lived-in portion of the room wasn't much to comment on - just a bookshelf, a wardrobe and a cluttered bedside table. But there was a distinct… melancholy about the room that Ruby couldn't quite put her finger on. Like there was a terribly sad secret that she simply wasn't privy to.
Ruby's eyes roved the room; all the while, she felt like an intruder. Which, technically, she was. But this felt more personal, rather than just mere breaking and entering.
Something horrific roared in the distance. They were running out of time.
Ruby's eyes landed on a book by the bedside table.
There was almost something hypnotic about it. Everything else in the room seemed to fade away as Ruby unthinkingly walked towards it. There was no title, no colourful covering or writing. Just a plain, leather-bound book.
Her fingers brushed the cover.
All at once it felt like she was on fire, like her skin was bubbling and melting and roasting and-
The heat left just as quickly as it came. But now there was a sense of… familiarity.
"Hey Dad," that was Jaune's voice! "Did I ever tell you about the happy times I had at Beacon? The friends I made and the fun I had?"
That was Jaune's voice, no doubt about it. But there was something else, something about the way the book felt in her hand that made Ruby's heart ache. Something… familiar.
"I'm sure it's not hard to believe, but I made a total ass of myself the moment I arrived, hahaha." It really was Jaune. But… what was he talking about? Beacon, obviously. But why? "I puked my guts out the second I got off the airship. Then I met a pretty girl and made my first friend. Ruby Rose, she was called… she was as awkward as I was, so I think we balanced each other out."
He was… telling his father about her? About them? Why…? He was a monster, not… not a real person. Bad guys weren't meant to be like this. Not at all. And why the hell did the book feel so familiar? It was like having something on the tip of her tongue - she knew that feeling, but she just couldn't place it.
"Before initiation I met another girl, I didn't even know she was meant to be famous. I thought she was just like the rest of us… I was wrong. Pyrrha Nikos became my best friend, the person I trusted most and relied on the most. She's a kind soul, I wonder what she thinks of me now…"
Yeah, and look where that friendship got him. Pyrrha hardly ever spoke anymore - the champion was just silent and distant whenever Ruby or her team tried to speak to her. Obviously she thought Jaune was a monster.
She must. Just like everyone else.
Something tickled in the back of her mind.
"I'd like to see her again one day, even if she didn't know it was me or even if it's fifty years from now. I'd like to speak with her, tell stupid jokes and laugh with her." Fat chance of that happening. The only time he would see anything other than her scythe would be when he went to the pits of hell.
"After initiation and my injuries, I found out I was partnered with a guy called Cardin Winchester. Nice guy, a bit of a lump sometimes… but he was my friend." Ironic, considering that Jaune killed his entire team - such good friends, buddies even. "Stuff happened, I did some stupid things and apparently I became a hero because I set myself on fire to stop some Grimm in Vale."
A… hero. Yes, maybe he was one once. They'd promised to be heroes together - and Jaune even saved Vale from the Grimm during the Breach. But… he wasn't a hero, he couldn't be. If he were, why would he chose to activate his horrid semblance during the festival? Why would he perfectly position himself so he could kill so many in the blink of an eye? No, Jaune Arc wasn't a hero. His reckless and wanton use of his disgusting semblance was proof of that.
"I had good times and I had bad, I loved having friends, I loved living my life. Everything was going well, I was becoming the hero I always dreamed of being… and then, father, it was as though the dream came crashing down around me."
Gah, what was that feeling? It was so familiar, like something she'd spent her whole life around but hadn't really noticed until it was gone. An aura to the book, something like- like unwashed clothes and whiskey. Almost like…
No. He didn't. It was too painful to bear thinking about. The dark reddish glow to the book couldn't be what she was thinking.
"You taught me that evil is just a word, that under the skin it is simple pain. But I know now that innocence is chrysalis… a phase designed to end." Damn him. Damn Jaune straight to hell. He was a monster - he couldn't be like this. He couldn't be this… this sad! He didn't have the right to be sad - he hadn't suffered as they did! "For you, mercy was victory. You sacrificed, you endured, and when given the chance you forgave... always."
He had to be lying. There- there was no other way. What he did to this book was monstrous and yet he still had the gall to sound like he regrets everything? No, no, it was too much - it was a lie.
And yet, as Ruby felt the familiar soul of her uncle Qrow shift within the book, she knew it to be true.
"When I was young, I dreamed and desired. But for all my want of the life of a hunter, you shot me down. Didn't you want me to be like you? I was so sure I could save everyone… But I regret. I regret more than ever… My semblance is a curse. Would that I could never have unlocked it."
Ruby shuddered and fell to her knees, tears threatening to fall as the book followed her to the ground. Curse him… she was the one who was wronged. She was the one who was meant to suffer for his actions. Why couldn't he be evil? Why couldn't he be the bad guy like the ones in all the stories? Damn him for making her feel pity.
"For me, the dream of being a hunter is over… and in waking, I am alone."
No. He didn't deserve it, not by miles. But that didn't stop the swell of pity that clouded her heart. Why couldn't things be simple? Was it not enough that she'd lost her father and uncle? Now she had to live knowing that she'd lost a friend too? That Jaune wasn't just some psychopath?
"I've looked into the heart of the world, and I am afraid. Afraid of all that I have seen, all that I could see… the world is about to change. Perhaps there is no name for what I am, but I know the world is about to change. I had thought that I would be a defender, a protector… yet, as you and I sat in the dark together, I wondered if even I could be redeemed. But father… I am afraid."
No…
She'd spent years believing he was a monster. She found his old home and found that he'd stuffed her uncle's soul in some random book, she watched as Amity slammed into the forest outside the city, she witnessed the horrific fire that tore through Forever Fall and rent the woods into ashes.
But for all that, all the anger and all the hatred… she pitied him. She hated herself for it, but the bubble of pity was too much. It was too real, too raw.
"Ruby!" Yang's shriek from the other side of the house pulled Ruby from her self-loathing. "It's Jaune! He's outside!"
Ruby tightly clutched the now silent book in her hands. Was this really it? After such a painful revelation as the one she just had, she was to fight Jaune now?
She wasn't sure she could do it.
Beacon, present day…
It was Jaune, it was Jaune, it was Jaune…
The mantra wouldn't stop pounding away in Weiss' mind.
She had already known he was important somehow - the constant references to his name and the blessed silence from the voices around him was clue enough. But this new information, the knowledge that these nightmares were all related to him on a deeper level was… groundbreaking. With this knowledge, she could… what, exactly? Force him to help her? Convince him to do something?
When she'd confronted him in Beacon originally, he'd blamed Nihilus - calling it a curse, saying that perhaps she had been infected just as he had. But if the root cause was Nihilus, then why was it all about Jaune? Why did none of the voices speak about Nihilus himself? It was always RWBY speaking about Jaune, about how much of a monster he was, about pain and regret and suffering.
Weiss eased her way out of bed.
Jaune was a terribly damaged individual, even Weiss could see that; it was hard to miss the faraway looks in his eyes, the misery and the anguish. But Weiss had always attributed his sorrow to either a poor upbringing or, more likely, his experiences with Nihilus himself. But what if it was more than that?
The voices and the visions all spoke of terrible things happening and being done by Jaune. Words of disaster and and suffering that Weiss could freely admit she didn't fully understand. But the things they spoke about were… impossible. Ruby killing Pyrrha and her daughter, Atlas on fire, the Vytal Festival and Amity ending in untold misery…
All things that were simply impossible.
But the pain, the raw rage that was in Jaune's voice as he… as he…
"I will never forgive you… I will never forgive any of you!"
Weiss shuddered as the dregs of memory washed over her.
Something like that… it was so real. Unlike the thin and shallow emotions of everyday life, something so completely… more.
It was real. Of that Weiss no longer had any doubt. Things like that… they couldn't be faked, not simulated or created just to manipulate. Raw agony on that level was beyond the means of mere acting or projection. It was too deep, too personal.
But as real as it was… it couldn't be Jaune.
It was, but it wasn't.
Jaune was damaged, he was hurt and he was wounded in a way that Weiss didn't fully grasp.
But Jaune was also… empty.
It was in his eyes, there simply wasn't enough left of him to feel such raw emotion.
But Jaune wasn't the cause of the nightmare she found herself in, Nihilus was.
Why didn't she see it before? Why had she never connected the dots until now? The unknown huntress fought with a scythe that looked exactly like Ruby's, and not only that, the woman looked almost like a mirror image of Ruby herself! And- and the sword Nihilus used to stab her, that looked almost identical to Pyrrha's sword.
And not only that; the visions themselves painted a terrible picture. They showed a man called Jaune locked in a deep, dark cell, left to wallow in his own insanity for years, a man with blind eyes and a profound and utter hatred for the world around him.
It was insane, nuts and totally unbelievable… but it was the only answer that really made sense to her. The huntress that 'stopped' Nihilus, the mystery team that fought Nihilus in Vale when he first appeared, the Lord of Hunger himself…
It was team RWBY and Jaune.
Nihilus was Jaune.
To anyone outside of her experiences and knowledge it would make no sense, but to Weiss it was as though clarity overcame everything. It made sense - which was amazing, considering the utter absurdity of it all. But Nihilus was an… alternate version of Jaune. Perhaps what Jaune was meant to become had Nihilus not intervened, or perhaps Jaune could even still become Nihilus and it was all some kind of paradoxical loop.
She… she had to call Jaune. She didn't know where he was, but she had to speak to him, talk to him about this amazing revelation she'd had.
Shakily, Weiss' pale fingers pawed at her scroll, her body shaking with adrenaline from her discovery. She had to speak to Jaune about this, she had to mull over this new information. Maybe try and find out exactly what else Jaune knew about Nihilus, and maybe-
"Hello…?"
Weiss gagged at the sight of Jaune's face.
Blood.
Vale, present day…
Nihilus cradled the soul of the father that was never his.
The Betrayer had gone into shock, and perhaps Nihilus himself was feeling a degree of surprise from this most recent turn of events.
He was a creature of hatred and unending loathing, but… that didn't mean he didn't feel pain.
"Is this what you wanted, father?" he whispered into the empty void of the world around him. It wasn't really empty, but rather he chose not to let anyone hear him.
It was a… kindness.
The soul of John Arc was… wounded. Not only from its current state of decay - as was the nature of all souls that died - but also due to the terrible rends and wounds the man had suffered in life. Was this to be the fate of John Arc in all worlds? To die in such abject emotional agony and to wallow in a never-ending pool of self hatred?
Was this truly the fate of all Arc men who wanted to protect their family? Was this some twisted form of destiny, or perhaps fate? No, no… such things didn't exist. The original Gods of Remnant were long since dead, felled an eternity before the Arc family even came into being. Salem, for all her failings, had seen to that. Destiny didn't exist.
John Arc was just unlucky then.
Perhaps that was something Nihilus shared with his father.
"Go then," Nihilus whispered as he allowed the last brilliant motes of John Arc's soul vanish into the void of death. "Go and be with your daughters and wife. And if you see Violet and Pyrrha there… tell them I'm…"
John Arc's soul faded away.
"I'm sorry."
What did it matter anyway? This wasn't his John Arc. This man didn't sit with him in the dark when Nihilus was young. He never said kind words to Nihilus or kept him company when the whole world was looking for him. This wasn't the John Arc that carried the delirious son out of Vale when it was swarming with Grimm and murderous robots - all the while with a broken arm and broken ribs. This wasn't the John Arc he'd failed to save.
"Hello…?"
Who dared call the Betrayer at a time like this?! And why the hell did the worm answer the scroll? He had better things to be doing!
"Jaune, what- what the hell happened!? You're covered in blood!"
Weiss. The silly broken little girl, couldn't she have picked a better time to… do whatever it is she was going to do?! The Betrayer was busy drowning in his misery! Couldn't she see that!?
"Weiss…" was the Betrayer crying? That was a surprise - Nihilus was almost beginning to think that the fool had run out of tears. "My father… he killed himself…"
Something is wrong.
The realisation passed through Nihilus like lightning.
Weiss' soul was… different.
Where were the shards? The damage and the terrible rends? They were gone!
In an instant, Nihilus left the Betrayer's side, the dead God unfolding before the paradoxical form of Weiss Schnee. Her soul - it wasn't, shouldn't be, possible. It had… reformed? She wasn't Weiss Schnee, but she was. The bright and unstained colour of the younger girl wasn't marred by the terrible dark patches of the elder version of the girl anymore. The shards of the original Weiss were just gone.
But she wasn't what she used to be either - it was somewhere in between. Like… like two contrasting points of who she was and who she could have been had met in the middle and merged.
But that shouldn't be possible.
That was creating a soul. Something even he, for all his might, couldn't do. It was almost as though she were a new person entirely. Like-
She was staring right at him.
Not past him, or through him, or at anything behind him. At him.
"Okay, Jaune," she said softly into the scroll, her eyes never leaving the distinctly invisible form of Nihilus. "I've texted Pyrrha and she's going to run over and help. Just… don't do anything you'll regret." She quietly ended the call.
She seriously shouldn't be able to see him right now. Nihilus was bending reality enough that even the quasi-God Salem shouldn't have been able to see him. One little girl who he killed/didn't kill shouldn't be able to perceive him.
"Are you… Nihilus?"
Okay, come the fuck on. He was a literal God, how on Remnant was this happening? What the hell was she doing? One little peek into her mind ought to solve this, clear away whatever this madness was and-
Pain.
It was almost like running face-first into a brick wall.
Nihilus felt his soul shudder, his attempt to worm his way into Weiss' head failing utterly as he recoiled. That shouldn't be possible - just another thing to add to that growing list - but she was dead.
Literally dead.
Not even dead like he was - the kind of dead that, if you mastered it, granted near omnipotence. She was the kind of dead that Nihilus dared not venture near, the kind that if his will slipped for even a single moment he would end up as. She was the same kind of dead as his wife, his daughter, his father, and all the others he'd left behind.
The type that was gone.
"Are you… okay?"
And yet here she was.
893
A/N
Words fail profoundly to describe the kind of shitty week I've had. So let's just move straight to the reviews:
The Powder Keg:
Thanks for reviewing.
The trope of 'cut of the head' is generally based upon the idea of removing or destroying the brain - the latter of which Ozpin and John both actually did during the fight. So no, while removing its head would certainly delay it and slow the Gleam Eyes down for... say, ten seconds, it wouldn't actually kill it.
The difficulty isn't damaging the Grimm - because that's quite easy, but rather damaging it enough in a single attack. Reducing it to a pile of ashes would certainly be the most efficient way to go about it.
Follower:
Thanks for reviewing.
Nihilus did indeed visit other versions of Remnant besides his own and one he's in now. As for me writing one-shots about these other worlds… that would be fairly redundant considering they are going to be part of the main story anyway. Although technically if you wanted you could already go read about one of the alternate worlds mentioned - it's actually just my other story Edge of Life. If you're looking for large-scale destruction then that's certainly a good place to go…
Nihilus is actually pretty apathetic about most things unless - he is essentially cosmically aware, he knows that no matter what he does in this universe or any other it won't matter or make any difference. That's the reason behind his name - the only thing that matters is his life and his existence. And eh, you'll see his reaction to the multiverse later.
While technically you are correct (and very observant) in saying that I never specified which world Nihilus married Pyrrha and had Violet in, I will now - it's his home universe. He wasn't in the others for long enough for such things to happen.
Thanks for the long review.
Guest:
Thanks for reviewing.
Charming. You do realise that if you don't like what I write you can just, you know, not read it?
But no no, it's fine. Keep insulting me, what's one more person to add to the list of people that hate me?
Romulus Black Talon:
Thanks for reviewing.
Such is life. John tried his hardest and for a time it worked for him; he had a wife and kids, he lived happily and got his happy ever after. But unlike in fairy tails when the knight rides off with the princess the story doesn't end - life goes on to find new and unique ways to crush you. At least the John of Nihilus' time may get to die believing he saved his family. Or not, as the case may be. At least he died thinking he saved
most of his family.
Shaded Azure:
Thanks for reviewing.
Answered this with long PM conversation…
ZHsteven:
Thanks for reviewing.
John Arc has got rather shitty luck, doesn't he? Not every story has a happy ending, especially if you're an Arc and stuck with me as your writer.
John's suicide will have an effect on Jaune, and it will twist him to a more... invested character. You'll see.
Thanks again for reading, and remember to leave a review.
